Hermione's Biggest Regret
by ThinksInWords
Summary: I’ve been so stupid. I had a shot at happiness, and I threw it away without giving it a second thought. It’s true: “you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.” He’s gone now. It’s all my fault. I’m so sorry… All about the angst, with hope for the end
1. Hope Is A Terrible Thing To Lose

Hermione's Biggest Regrets

Summary: I've been so stupid. I had a shot at happiness, and I threw it away without giving it a second thought. It's true: "you don't know what you've got until it's gone." He's gone now. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry… All about the angst, with hope for the ending.

Disclaimer: Too late to say that I don't own??? Okay…

**----------New Years, 2006----------**

New Year brings the old-fashioned New Year's resolutions. I can't possibly think of anything, even though my friends want me to find someone in the coming year. The only resolution I can think of is finally making things alright with my biggest regret. But I don't know how to do that anymore. I'm afraid it isn't even possible anymore, afraid it's too late.

I am going to entrust my biggest regret – and at the same time my biggest secret – to this piece of paper. I don't know if anyone is going to read it, but at least I will have gotten it out.

Take deep breaths Hermione, you have to do this. I have to do this.

I have a reputation for knowing everything, a reputation of being a know-it-all. I am supposed to know everything there is to know in this world, and yet I am particularly clueless sometimes. Especially when it concerns love and relationships.

It took me years to figure out that I liked Ron, and it took me even longer to realize he had feelings for me too. And you would expect that relationship to have a happy ending, with no regrets besides not getting together sooner. You would be wrong.

It ended much faster than the both of us had anticipated. It only took Ron a few months to say yet another of his completely stupid things. He can be so incredibly ignorant and oblivious to other people's feelings. I hate it when he says those things without thinking. It got us into yet another fight, and this time there would be no cutesy making up. It was over.

I don't regret the relationship, it made me realize that Ron and I were and always will be better off as friends. We bickered and argued too much to be in a relationship. We both had too much quirks that the other person hated in a boyfriend or girlfriend. Sometimes I even wonder why we became friends. I guess Harry was and is a kind of bridge between us.

My biggest regret is about neither Ron nor Harry. It is about an other boy, a boy you wouldn't expect. A boy I shouldn't have to regret anything about, but I do.

My biggest regret is about Draco Malfoy. There, I admitted it for the first time.

And this biggest regret is not about not slapping him in the face before third year, or not hexing him so he would stop calling me a Mudblood, or stopping him from his attempt to kill Dumbledore, or letting him in at the Order of the Phoenix that day. It's nothing like that.

Merlin, I can't admit this. It's too embarrassing. It's too unbelievable. I can barely believe it's true myself. I barely believe myself when I think about it. I can't tell, but I have to.

My biggest regret is not giving Draco Malfoy a chance to prove himself when he told me he had fallen in love with me, that he could make me happy. I regret laughing in his face every single time he told me this. But of course, as usual, I didn't realize this until it was much too late for stupid regrets and apologies, no matter how sincere. He was gone.

He had died in the damn war against Voldemort, trying to save Harry's life. He was probably doing it to win my trust, even though he never spoke to me in the last few months. It would only end up in him talking about his feelings, and me laughing in his face.

Merlin, I can't believe I laughed in his face when he told me he might love me.

I think I was scared. Draco Malfoy was an enigma; one no one could get. I never liked things I didn't understand, hence my hatred for Divination. But I didn't know if he was telling the truth or that he was lying to me. I couldn't read him. I didn't know if I could trust him.

I have deduced that he had to be scared too. I mean, he is – I'm sorry, he was – the son of Lucius Malfoy. It wasn't exactly expected of him to fall in love with Harry Potter's best friend, and a Muggle-born at that. It was expected of him to marry Pugface Parkinson in some kind of arranged marriage, serve Voldemort, and preferably kill me in battle.

He had to go through so many things to tell me about his feelings and I had the guts to laugh in his face. Merlin, I am the most horrible person in the world. I could have at least given him a chance, or I could have been more polite in my rejection. I was terribly rude.

If I had not been so rude, I could have been happy right now. I could have been together with him, or at least kind of friends with him. He wouldn't have been gone. He is gone because of me. If it had not been necessary for him to prove himself to me, he wouldn't have died trying to save Harry. He would have been standing next to me, protecting me, even though it was completely unnecessary for him to do so, because I can take care of myself. He wouldn't have died because of me. I blame myself for his death. It is my fault after all.

I never told this to anyone, my regrets, because they wouldn't understand. They all knew about his feelings, and they know about my rudeness. But they never liked him, and they wouldn't understand the fact that I changed my mind about him. They still hated him in the final battle, and Harry still can't understand why he would die to save him.

Telling my friends about my regrets would destroy them. I would lose all my friends, and they are all that I have left now that he is gone. I couldn't possibly ruin things even further.

I don't know how I started regretting how things were. I know that with every battle, I was more worried about Malfoy's safety – and how silly that was, because I couldn't even talk to him in a normal way, or call him by his first name like he requested. I know that it hurt when he stopped talking to me, even though I would have continued laughing at him if he had continued to talk to me. I know that I wished I could be alone with him and tell him about my confusion, no matter how humiliating that would have been for me. I know that I started wishing that things were no longer going to be the way they were. It had to change.

But of course, when I finally mustered the courage to go talk to him and tell him the truth, it was time for the final battle. For his final battle. For his death. I was too late.

I remember that summer so well. It was the best and worst time of my life.

**----------Summer of 2000----------**

He's gone. I can't believe it, but he's gone. The war is over, but he's gone. I'm too late.

That is, of course, the incredibly irony of it. Karma is a bitch. This is most definitely fate's revenge for my being such a bitch. I should have told him before the battle.

And to top this mess off, I found a letter in my bedroom. It has my name written on it, in a handwriting that seems strangely familiar, but I can't quite place. I think it is his handwriting, and I'm becoming afraid of opening that letter, afraid of the contents.

When I finally decide to read the letter, my hand is shaky. I'm still scared of what this letter will bring, what his message to me will be. The last I'll ever hear from him.

_Hermione, or Granger, or whatever you prefer,_

_I feel like that stupid Darcy Muggle writing this letter to you, hoping that you will give me a chance. I remember him doing the same in that awfully long movie-thing you made half of the Order watch last year, to get to know more about Muggle life. He got his chance in the end, and I am still hoping you will give me mine._

_I know I am hoping in vain, because you will laugh in my face again, the way you always do when I try to talk to you. I never knew you to be so rude as to step on someone's heart._

_You know that I still hate you, right? I hate you for the afore mentioned stepping on my heart, and your fake superiority. I hate you because you are still annoying know-it-all bookworm Granger after all of those years. I hate you because I think I might love you._

_I won't repeat my feelings for you. They disgust you just as much as I do. I guess that it is fitting for an asshole like me to fall for a girl who can never love him. What is that stupid Muggle saying again? Life is a bitch? Something like that._

_You hate me more than anyone, I know. Sometimes I think that you hate me even more than Voldemort, when I've done nothing to make you believe I am worse than that creature._

_I refuse to apologize for our fights during our Hogwarts years. You were just as much a part of that as I was. You hurt me just as much as I hurt you, only you hurt me in a more physical way. Sometimes I think I can still feel that punch from third year._

_This is my last desperate attempt for you to give me that one chance. After this letter, you will never have to endure anything from me anymore, I will promise you. No catch, I promise. I just need to ask you a few questions before you will never hear of me anymore._

_Do you hate me because of my name Granger? Because if that is the truth, you are fooling yourself. I don't know how many times I have told you that I am not my father, and never will be. You think just because my father was a Death Eater, I would be the same. Well, it's not so simply black and white Granger. People have minds of their own, to make their own choices with. (And I will ignore every comment about me being a ferret instead of a person.)_

_Are you afraid of giving me a chance because of your friends? If you are, you are not the person I thought you were. You don't need Potter's permission for everything. I thought you were smart enough to know that Granger. Prove me wrong if you dare._

_Today, in battle, I will do my best to help you whenever necessary – even though you probably won't need it. You are Hermione Granger after all._

_If I don't make it out alive, so be it. I know Potter and Weasley will probably be jumping for joy if that happens. I'm not asking you not to jump along, or not to join the party that will undoubtedly break out. I'm not asking you to mourn. I do want to ask you to take care of yourself, which you undoubtedly will, and to make sure Lucius won't live. I can trust you to take care of that for me, right? I know you would love to do so._

_If I make it out alive and you still despise me after the battle, tell me so and I will leave without a word. You will never have to see me again. You have my word on that. And I know you are doubting about trusting me, but you can trust me on this._

_A last goodbye,_

_Draco, or Malfoy, or ferret, or whatever you prefer_

**----------Winter 2000-2001----------**

I can't believe that I am doing this. I can't believe that I am in the graveyard almost in the middle of the night, so Harry and Ron won't find out, just to go to Malfoy's grave.

I'm here to yell at him about that letter. Ever since I got it, I can't forget about it. I can't stop thinking about what he wrote in that letter. I can't stop thinking about my possible feelings, even though it is much too late for that. I can't forget about him and I hate him for it.

"Draco ferret Malfoy, I hate you!"

There, I threw it out. I know it is a little disrespectful to be doing this at his grave, but still. I know the other people I see wandering around will think I am crazy, but Merlin, this is the only way for me. The visiting Muggles can mind their own business.

I know he would hate being buried at a Muggle graveyard, but it was the best place to bury him, since he wouldn't be allowed with the other Malfoys. There were curses on the Malfoy tombs, and he couldn't get in. This was his only option. Harry and Ron really liked it, but I couldn't help but think that he could have been buried at the graveyard for the Order.

"How could you write me that letter and then die on me! Damn you Malfoy!"

I think the other people around will call the nice men in the white jackets to pick me up if I don't stop screaming soon, but I have to. I hate him for doing this to me.

"If you just told me to my face, in private, I would have given you that chance."

I still hate him. I think I hate him even more because he did this to me. I want to get him out of my thoughts and out of my mind. He's not coming back, I know so, so I want him gone. I can't keep thinking about him. It's my fault he is gone. Oh Merlin.

"It is your fault I couldn't be happy at the great victory! All your fault!"

I am shouting this at the top of my lungs, ignoring the curious looks I am getting. I am blaming him because that is what I do. He's gone, so it is easy to blame him for everything.

"Oh Merlin, I'm so sorry Malfoy. I can't believe you would risk your life to prove to me that you were not a bad person. I can't believe you would do that for me, even though I hurt you so badly, and you thought I hated you. You are the reason Harry is still alive, and I bet he didn't even come here to thank you. It's my fault that you're gone, and I couldn't even apologize for being such a bitch to you when you told me you might love me. I should have given you that chance ages ago. I could have been with you right now. You wouldn't have died alone with no one to care for you. I'm sorry I was too late Malfoy."

By this time I am almost whispering. Tears are running down my face slowly, and I can't seem to get rid of the bulge in my throat. It hurts so badly, knowing I was too late.

"Draco Malfoy. 1980 to 2000. Overcame bad faith to die a hero. He will be missed."

As I read those words, those words I had thought of, I felt a little pride. Nobody would see these words, and know that I caused them to be there, but they would be there. They would be there because they were true. He died saving Harry, he died a hero.

"I hate you because I miss you. I'm sorry for everything Draco. I'm sorry."

And with that, I left the graveyard, running from the grave of the enigma who loved me.

**----------Tenth Anniversary of the Great Victory, 2010---------**-

It's been ten years. Exactly ten years since that day. Voldemort has been dead for exactly ten years. It's time for the Anniversary, which has become a national holiday. People don't have to work on that day, and there are parties all around the world. It's a day of joy.

Well, it's a day of joy for most people, but not for me. It should be a day of joy for me, because I was one of the people fighting in that battle, but it is not a day of joy for me because it is also the anniversary of his death. It is exactly ten years ago that he died.

One would think that my guilt would have started to fade over the years, that I would have started to forget about him. But I still can't forget, and my guilt won't fade.

I am in the middle of a celebration dinner, wearing a fancy dress, eating expensive food, sometimes talking to some of my friends, and all I can think about is him. How he would have been here if he had not died so long ago. How he would have looked. How I would have wanted to walk next to him and talk to him. Just how it would have been.

I look around at all of the happy people, the married couples, the loving looks, and I sigh. It seems as if everyone has found that one person. Harry and Ginny are still happily married, after two kids and one more on the way. Ron is engaged to one of his Quidditch team-mates, a beautiful girl named Gabrielle Delacour, Fleur's younger sister. Minister of Magic Neville Longbottom and Luna Lovegood have been married for five years now. They seem happy.

I am still alone after all these years, with only my memories of him to keep me company. His face haunts me in my dreams sometimes, asking me about why I hate him. But every time I try to tell him I don't hate him – quite on the contrary – he dies again. I wake up crying.

I drink my fourth Firewhiskey of this hour, barely registering the burn down my throat because I am too busy covering up the tears I desperately want to hide. I look into the empty glass with a sense of regret. This can only make me forget him for one night, I know, but that one night without nightmares and haunting eyes is worth the hangover I will have tomorrow.

My friends barely realize that I am not alright, no matter what I tell them. They are too caught up in their own happiness to think about their lonely, hurting best friend. It is their good right, of course, but it still hurts deep down. My regrets are slowly breaking me.

If I had defied my friends and had chosen him, I wouldn't have been so broken. I wouldn't have been hurting by myself, drowning sorrows with Firewhiskey. I would have been whole, I would have been together. There would be nothing to drown with Firewhiskey.

Or is that a too optimistic picture of loving Draco Malfoy? Would he have driven me nuts within the year? Would I still be lonely now? After an ugly break-up, and the loss of my friends because of this choice, could I be happy? Could it really be?

I keep picturing myself and him as the whole package. We could have been a real family, in the whole stupid traditional 'Dan Quayle, golden retriever, grow old together, wear matching jogging-suits' kind of way. Well, not the jogging-suits, but you get my point. We could have had something real, if only I had not been so stupid to let my happiness depend on the opinion of my friends. If only I had told him about my confusion. If only…

"I have something very important to say, something important to bring to the attention."

In my drunken haze, I don't see the shocked looks covering people's faces. It's so easy to ignore every thing besides the things I desperately have to get out.

"Hermione, you are drunk," my dear and very sober friend Harry speaks.

"I know everyone here remembers Draco Malfoy." Murmurs of agreement fill the enormous room. "He was the typical Slytherin bully at Hogwarts, as many people know. But what almost nobody knew, is that there was more to him than that. Nobody knows that he sacrificed his life to save bloody Harry Potter in the final battle ten years ago, because Harry over here wanted it to be a secret." Surprised gasps follow. "Almost nobody knows that he didn't hate everyone at the Order of the Phoenix. He told me he was in love with me so many times that I lost count, even though I laughed in his face every single bloody time." More surprised gasps, and the scribbling of a pen from some reporters present. "And nobody knows that I am sorry for laughing at him. I regret not giving him his chance, like I should have done. Nobody knows that I dream about his death every night, because I bloody well miss him. I miss Draco bloody Malfoy! There, I finally said it out loud."

And with that last screamed statement, I transform my knife into a Portkey and leave to my apartment. I can't Apparate with my state of mind, it is too dangerous. I search for my bed in the dark, because I am a little too far gone to put on the lights. It will help my already enormous headache. The second my head hits my bed, I fall asleep.

**----------The morning after, 2010----------**

I wake up with a headache, and I rub my temples in annoyance. I grab the bottle of hangover relief potion I have on my nightstand and drink the required dose. After I wait a few seconds, my hangover is gone. I sigh in relief and get up from my bed, to get dressed for work.

I will have to face the world after my terribly embarrassing little speech at the anniversary dinner yesterday. I am not even going to bother reading the papers, knowing I will have made the front page of the Daily Prophet, and maybe even more papers. That Rita Pulper could never resist gossip about me, even though I can blackmail her.

When I arrive at work, I am getting very awkward looks from my colleagues. Some of them look at me with obvious distaste in their eyes, some wear broad encouraging smiles. Some people even have a peculiar curious look in their eyes. I wonder why that is.

When I open the door to my private office, I see there is already a man inside. Maybe he is the reason for all of the curious looks I am receiving. I think that could be the truth.

"Excuse me sir, but what are you doing in my office?"

Then, the man turns around and my breath catches in my throat. Merlin, he looks so much like him; like he would have looked if he had lived through the war ten years ago. His hair is just about the same colour blond, his eyes are that same grey-bluish colour that holds your eye, his posture looks about the same, and the expression on his face is so alarmingly similar to the expression he wore when he told me he might love me. It's frightening me, and I can barely breathe anymore. I feel like I could fall on the floor and cry right that moment.

"You… him… Oh Merlin," I stutter while my mind is going a mile a minute.

"Excuse me miss, I didn't quite understand that," the man says in a mocking tone.

I had almost gotten my act together again, but then he said that. He couldn't possibly be anymore similar to him. That voice, that taunting and mocking tone. Oh Merlin, I think I am going to lose it right now. He should not be allowed to be so much like him.

"I'm sorry, but it's just that you look a lot like someone I used to know. He's been gone for a while now, and it shocked me to see someone who looked this much like him."

The man's face breaks into a smirk. He is slowly tearing me apart and he doesn't even know that he is doing it. Life really is a bitch; sending this guy to me, a guy who is so similar to a man who loved me once, a long time ago, is such a cruel thing to do. I think I know now what Malfoy meant when he wrote about stepping on his heart. The irony.

THE END

Only if you want it to be.


	2. But A Wonderful Thing To Regain

Hermione's Biggest Regret

Summary: I've been so stupid. I had a shot at happiness, and I threw it away without giving it a second thought. It's true: "you don't know what you've got until it's gone." He's gone now. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry… All about the angst, with hope for the ending.

Disclaimer: Almost forgot this with all the hate-mail I received. The hate-mail is only justified when it's about the plot, which is the only thing I own. The rest is all JK.

AN: I'm a very cruel person, I know. My day is complete: my reviewers have accused me of evil. :twirls invisible moustache:

**----------The Winter of 1998----------**

This has to be one of the best days of this year. The weather is absolutely amazing; the entire city is covered with a thin layer of snow. It's almost Christmas, and the holiday spirit is starting to make an appearance at the Headquarters of the Order too.

Even though everyone has their fear of Voldemort in their hearts, deeply hidden, they have managed to be cheery enough. Everyone is looking forward to the warmth and love that is spread around the world on Christmas. I know this sounds silly and all too romanticised, but I just love Christmas so much. It is definitely my favourite holiday of them all.

Everyone just seems to get happier in the weeks and days before Christmas. Everything just seems more peaceful. Even the hidden threat of an attack from Voldemort seems a bit further from our minds when Christmas starts to come around. Christmas is amazing.

And thinking about Christmas keeps my mind from wandering to subjects I definitely don't want to start thinking about today. I don't want my wonderful day ruined by them.

I mean, yesterday was definitely not a good day. That is the reason why this day seems so wonderful, and it is the reason why I really don't want to talk about yesterday. But I would have to explain what happened, so my reaction to yesterday will be clear.

I will have to serve a warning first: that which happened to me yesterday may seem like something that is unbelievable, but it is true and has really happened.

Draco 'ferret' Malfoy told me yesterday that he might love me. As in really love me, like a man loves a woman love me. It scared the hell out of me, and I thought it was a joke, so I easily laughed it off, without any concern for his feelings. It was too weird to be true.

You know, I am thinking the ferret bastard doesn't even have feelings. I think he is too jaded to feel anything but pain. I can't change a thing about that, and he can't change a thing about these thoughts. I don't think I'll ever believe that he meant what he said.

I mean, why would he mean that? He is Draco Malfoy after all. His father is the biggest Death Eater suck-up in the world. He has called me a Mudblood since the day he met me. He has never said a kind word towards anyone I know and like. He can't like me.

You don't call someone you love by their last name, and you don't address them with a word like Mudblood. You don't yell at the person you love. You don't love a person who hates you, and as far as I know, did nothing to create said love. You just don't Malfoy!

When you love someone, you call him or her by their first name, or you address him or her with a sweet pet name only the two of you get. When you love someone, you speak to them in a normal tone of voice. When you love someone, the person who you love would have to have done something to start the love, and would not hate you. That's how it is Malfoy!

Am I much too naïve thinking this? Do I still have a picture of love that is similar to the fairy tales I have read as a young child? Is real love something much more difficult than that? And most important of all that at this moment: could Malfoy really love me then?

These questions keep troubling my mind. I can't seem to focus on anything besides what he told me yesterday. Not even a rant about my favourite subject of the moment, Christmas, seems to help right now. I can't seem to get rid of these thoughts. I hate it.

I never thought I would be thinking of Malfoy this much. It's kind of ironic in a strange and twisted way. Merlin, I really want to stop thinking about the ferret now.

**----------Beginning of March, 2000----------**

Malfoy told me he loved me again today. I can't remember how many times he has told me already, even though I laugh in his face every time. Sometimes I wonder if that means that I'm not a good person like I always say I am. I used to shrug my shoulders at that and ignore the thought, but now I'm not so sure about these things anymore.

I mean, how can he muster up the guts to tell me that he loves me time after time, time and time again, when he knows I will just laugh in his face again? How can he possible be this determined about a stupid joke? Unless of course, it really is not a joke after all.

But it simply has to be a joke. I mean, I have been telling myself that it was a joke ever since he started these awkward daily confessions of his love for me. It just can't be true. Malfoy loving me would equal to hell freezing over and the end of the world as we know it. This can't be the truth. It has to be a joke, for the sake of my sanity.

My mind keeps running away from me with thoughts about Malfoy. I miss having Malfoy-free days. I haven't had one of those in a few years. Merlin, I wish he would just stop his stupid daily confessions of his love for me. I don't think I can handle it much longer, and it simply has to hurt his pride to be rejected – and rather rudely too – day after day.

And now I'm starting to worry about his non-existent feelings. Merlin, this thing is really starting to get to me. Why can't he just stop? It can't go on any longer. It has to end.

I counted the days since his first confession, and it has been almost five hundred days since the first one. Five hundred days of rude laughter and desperate attempts to get my attention for something other than yelling at him. It just can't be a joke anymore.

Malfoy must really love me. That just has to be the weirdest thing I have ever thought. But even though I still can't believe that this could possibly be the truth, and I still hope to wake up just about any second now, it is still the truth. Merlin, he loves me. He really loves me; like a man loves a woman loves me. He wants to be with me, more than hatred between us.

He probably wants to speak to me. Really speak to me, like serious conversations about where a relationship is going, or about where we stand in life, or about what we want to do after the war is over. Maybe even the playful banter many couples have, joking with each other about funny things they experienced together. I can't imagine doing that with Malfoy.

And Merlin, maybe he wants to touch me. Not in the way I did when I slapped him in our third year at Hogwarts, but in a loving and gentle way. Like holding hands when we walk through the streets of London together, meanwhile smiling sweetly and talking to each other in soft tones. Or like putting his arm around me, like Muggle boys always do when they go on a date to the cinema with a girl, holding me close to his body. Or maybe he wants to kiss me, our lips touching softly, or maybe in a passionate way like in those movies. I can't even think about him wanting to take things further than that. I can't imagine doing any of these things I thought of with him. I would definitely be much too freaked and grossed out about it.

These images that are now stuck in my head are potentially mentally scarring. I feel shivers going down my spine at the thought of Malfoy touching me. I think I'm definitely much too grossed about even thinking these kind of things involving him. It has to be about that.

"Draco Malfoy really loves me."

No matter what some magazines might tell you, saying things out loud does not really help you to believe them. It only makes things seem even more weird. It makes these things seem even more true, and I desperately want it to be anything but true, it's a necessity.

"Draco Malfoy wants to be in a relationship with me."

Now I'm sure that it definitely doesn't help. The images I just pushed from my mind returned at full force. Merlin, I'm getting these shivers again, and I can almost feel him touch me for real. This is not good; it's starting to really creep me out. I'm getting confused.

I still can't get my head around it. This is something I always thought that would never happen, something I never even thought about really. My whole world is spinning around now I finally realize that it is not just some joke. I'm waiting for it to go back to the way it was, waiting for all of this to be some kind of strange and disturbing nightmare.

Everything I ever depended on is gone. Because if Draco Malfoy really loves me, there is nothing I can be sure of anymore. Every truth I had in my life has to be re-evaluated, because there is nothing I can depend on anymore. Everything has changed with just one realization.

Like every girl, I have my dreams about prince charming, or just about the man who would love me for the rest of his life. I have my dreams about a man telling me that he loves me and wants to be with me. I definitely did not dream about this situation and this guy.

It would be really twisted and disturbing if I really had dreamt about this situation and this particular guy. To have those silly sayings about boys who tell their love for a girl by bullying her come true, it would be absolutely terrifying just to think of it.

**----------The end of May 2000----------**

I really can't believe that it is May already. The days and weeks seemed to pass really slowly, but now I look back I realize that it has all gone by pretty fast. It's surprising.

So many things have happened throughout these last few months. We finally have a lead on the last Horcrux, so we are getting pretty close to defeating Voldemort for once and for all. I can hardly wait until this war is finally over and I can go back to a normal life.

Harry and Ginny have finally started dating openly again. Only a close group of friends knew that they were dating again after Ginny's graduation. I can barely believe that they could stay away from each other that long. They are practically attached to the hip these days.

And the weirdest thing of them all: he hasn't talked to me about his feelings since the beginning of March. He hasn't even talked to me at all. And even stranger, I am beginning to miss his daily confessions. Merlin, I know it's wrong, but it is really true.

I know I stepped on his pride about five hundred times, but it is still the truth. No matter how badly I will deny it if anyone ever hears about it, it is the truth. I'm starting to miss him.

The strangest thing just came to mind. It was almost an epiphany. He has been telling me about his love for me for exactly five hundred days, until he stopped. There must have been a reason for that. I want to know that reason, but I can't ask him about it of course.

I can't believe anyone would put himself through that. I can't believe he would let himself be rejected for exactly five hundred times. That definitely takes some guts and courage. Typical Gryffindor traits, I notice. Maybe that was his way of proving himself. It seems strange, but it is also quite possible. I think he would feel like he needs to prove himself to me.

Now I'm all of a sudden analysing the boy – or maybe he is already a man – who says that he loves me. He has always been an enigma. Not just to me, but to everyone. I don't think there is anyone who has ever completely understood him. Not even his friends, I think.

Strangely enough, I'm thinking about being the first one to understand him. I always want to be the first or the best in everything, I know that. I love solving riddles. And Malfoy is like a big breathing complicated riddle that I would really like to solve, even though it's strange.

Oh Merlin, what am I thinking? These things can only lead to trouble. These things can only lead to regret about every single one of those five hundred rejections. I don't want that to happen. I have to get rid of this train of thought right now. I can't afford to feel sorry for Draco Malfoy because I rejected him rather rudely. Five hundred times.

"I am feeling sorry for him right now."

And still, saying things out loud doesn't help. It still makes things even worse. Because I don't want this to happen. I must avoid it at all costs, but I'm afraid that it's already too late for that. I'm afraid I'm already starting to regret these rejections. Oh Merlin, please no.

I can't do anything about it. I can't just go up to him, swallow my pride, and give him that chance he has been asking for all of this time. I am much too proud for that.

Harry, Ron and Ginny are going to kill me if I give him that chance. They hate him with a tremendous passion, loathe him with every fibre of their being, and despise him. I can't start something with the enemy of my best friends in the world. I just can't.

And let's definitely not forget that I hate him too. At least, I thought I did. Now I'm not so sure anymore. The regret is already starting to eat me up inside. I can't.

If only he would ask me for the five hundred and first time, I wouldn't have to swallow my pride for him. I would accept the offer and give him that chance. It probably wouldn't work out anyway, but I wouldn't feel like such a bad person for rejecting him that harshly.

I don't think he is going to ask me though. Well, then that's just going to be the way it is. It is much too late to apologize or drastically change my opinion of him.

It's not just my fault it turned out to be like this. It's his fault too. We will both just have to live with the things we have done. It's much too late to change it all back.

**----------Spring of 2009----------**

I am all out of hangover relief potion already. I thought I had made enough to last me at least a month. But it's all gone already, in just a little over a week. I have started drinking way too much in these last few weeks; I know it's true. I just need to forget it all.

His face in my dreams every night, an accusing look in his eyes. It's tearing me apart inside and I really need to forget all about it. I should think about Obliviating myself, just to be rid of all of the memories of him. I want to forget all about him, without the alcohol this time.

I remember what caused my heavy drinking last night. It was rather stupid actually, but it seemed like a really big deal at the time. It meant a lot to me then, but now I am completely sober it all seems like such an exaggeration of my slightly tipsy mind.

All it was is that I saw a man in the park. He looked like him. He looked so very much like him that all I could do was stare at him in complete shock of what I was seeing.

Platinum blond hair that was a little longer than I remembered it to be on him, but was just about the exact same colour. His posture was the same, the arrogant attitude present all around him. A smirk on his face, just like his, so much like his. The same arrogant strut.

I went up to him because I thought it was him. I thought it was him even though I knew perfectly well that he is gone and I will never see him ever again. I thought it was him because he looked so similar to him in my drunken and twisted mind.

Now that I recall the man again, he doesn't seem anything like him at all. His hair colour was more towards a dark blond than a platinum blond colour. He wasn't at all as tall as he was, because I remember that he always towered over me, which I hated. The only thing that was a little similar was the arrogant air that was present around him. It definitely wasn't him.

The most embarrassing thing to admit is that this was not the first man I went up to thinking it was him. More like the tenth man, or something in that direction. It seems that whenever I get drunk every blond man looks like him. Or even blond boys look like he did when we were at Hogwarts together. It's all so impossible, but it seems all so real to me.

It is a little strange that even after almost nine long years, I still can't seem to get used to the fact that he is truly gone, and that I will never see him again. I still have the nagging feeling that he will turn up somewhere and that the missing years were a part of my imagination.

It's even a little disturbing that I can't and won't forget about him. It makes me feel like I am such a disturbed and mentally unstable person. And maybe that's just who I became when he died, because normal people don't go after every blond man they see. I went insane, I think.

Nobody seems to notice how far off I am these days. It's a little odd that nobody has seemed to notice how much of a sore subject he was with me. Harry, Ron and Ginny should have noticed by now, since they are my best friends in the world, but they don't notice anything.

They don't notice that whenever the Great Victory is brought up I start slipping away with my thoughts to a place where he is still alive and well. They don't notice that his name can be enough to bring me to tears in the privacy of my home. They don't notice that I slip away to the graveyard to visit him and talk to him. They don't notice a thing about me.

I always thought friends were supposed to notice these things about you, but I guess that isn't true after all. I guess when friends find someone to be with, they slowly start slipping away from you until they don't know you anymore, and you don't know them either.

It makes me sad thinking about it, but I think it is true. A depressing thought.

Talking about how my friends don't know me anymore makes me feel even more lonely. It makes me think of him even more than I already do. On one side, I desperately want to forget all about him, but on the other side, I want to remember him always. I feel that if I will forget about him, I'll be too broken and empty to ever be repaired again. Merlin, that's depressing.

**----------Back to the morning after, 2010----------**

The similarities are making me think I am seeing things. That my brain is playing tricks on me, making me think that he is not gone, that he's really here to see me. Of course, that is absolutely ridiculous, but it is strangely comforting me at the same time.

"You met someone equally good-looking as me?"

No, please stop doing this. Please stop saying these things that he would have said if it were really him. Please stop stepping on my heart. Please stop tearing me apart. Please stop talking and please stop looking exactly like him. Please just leave my office and don't come back.

This is much too painful. I would really like to wake up now. It doesn't matter how and where and when, but please just make sure that he is no longer here, that he's far away from me. I don't want to see him again, because it just hurts too bloody much.

I start to think that I have finally really lost my last connection with sanity. Maybe the nice men in the white jackets can come and pick me up, or somebody can bring me to the Insanity Ward in St. Mungo's and lock me inside. Maybe being insane isn't so bad, if it means that he will be with me always and forever. I think I'm going to like being insane.

"I'm truly and deeply sorry sir, but I am not feeling so well. Could you please leave my office? I am sure one of my colleagues can help you with your business as well."

If I am truly insane, then this pseudo-Malfoy will leave now, and the real him will come back to see me, and talk to me, and touch me, and hold me. Merlin, I desperately wish that he would come back to hold me. To tell me everything is okay now. To tell me he is not going away anymore, that he'll stay with me forever. I don't care if that would mean that I am truly insane and I'll be locked up. Merlin, I really have changed into a much too twisted person.

"Are you sick with your love for me?"

I am now desperately trying to keep my tears at bay, and to keep my desperation hidden from him. This arrogance is probably supposed to make me mad, just like his arrogance was supposed to, but all I can do now is cry, and wish for him, and hope it all comes true.

If he doesn't stop acting like him soon, I will start screaming and crying, and then I will have truly lost every last connection with sanity. This is much too cruel. I know that karma is a bitch, but can't it just be over now? I have been hurting for ten years; doesn't that horrible karma think that it is enough by now? Such a long time since he's been gone.

"Please leave sir. I'm not in any way fit to handle this right now."

The despair has taken over my voice, and I know he hears it. I know he hears it, because the expression on his face changes into an exact replica of his smirk. I guess this means that karma thinks that I haven't suffered enough just yet. Karma is really a bitch.

"You would miss me too much if I would leave again."

What in Merlin's name does that awful man mean with that? Maybe he is just a cruel man who decided to torment me when he read one of the various articles about me in the papers this morning. That would have to be it; it's the only sane explanation there's left.

He's turning into him in front of my very eyes. I'm not able to watch this. Can karma please just give me a break and send this man over to one of my colleagues? I hope so.

"You are so much like him it is hurting me! Could you please leave?"

I finally told him the real reason for asking him to leave. I am a complete basket case at this moment, and I really can't deal with him anymore. I want to get home, lie in my bed with extra covers and cry until I have no more tears left. Let him leave now!

"Have you always been this daft Granger?"

No, it can't be. It is absolutely impossible for this to be real. I lost my mind, I'm hearing things. Anything to explain this rationally. It just can't really be him. He's gone.

"You're not him. He died ten years ago to save Harry."

At this the man scoffs. The mention of Harry darkened his eyes a little. He appears to be uneasy with that name, just like he always was around Harry. No, it can't be.

"What do I need to do to make you believe me my dear Granger? Do I need to tell you I love you again? For what is it, the five hundred and first time now?"

Was it really him, or was I really losing my mind? He was the only one who knew about that exact number. It had to be him. I declare myself officially insane. It really can't be.

"I'm very much alive, and very much in love with you. I'm waiting for that chance Granger."

THE END

Only if you want it to be. Otherwise, there's always an explanation…


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